


Sin City (3.04)

by ackles_ass_equation



Series: Superghetto [49]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Related, Demons, Episode: s03e04 Sin City, Screenplay/Script Format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-23 00:28:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7459482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ackles_ass_equation/pseuds/ackles_ass_equation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Da brothers rewind a hood where tha playa hatas have turned ta drankin n' gambling. Meanwhile, Bobby gets a unexpected ally as he attempts ta rebuild tha Colt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. NOW

INT. CATHOLIC CHURCH.

A nun is puttin Bizzlez or hymnals up in tha pews. Candlez flicker n' there be a sound like wings fluttering. Biatch gets straight-up trippin fo' a moment, then turns round n' is startled ta peep one of mah thugs appears behind her muthafuckin ass.

 **FATHER GIL**  
(handz her another book)   
One mo' n' mo' n' mo'.   
Thatz all fo' tonight, sista n' shit. Come on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Let me strutt you ta yo' car.

 **ANDY**  
(a voice from overhead)   
Father?

 **FATHER GIL**  
(looks up ta where ANDY is standin on tha balcony)  
Andy?

 **ANDY  
** Father, Godz not wit us. (beat) Not no mo'.

 **FATHER GIL  
** Andy, of course Dude is. Why would you say that, biatch? Whatz wrong?

 **ANDY**  
(panting)  
Dude can't help us. And if Dude can.. yo. Dude won't.

ANDY produces a gun, which his schmoooove ass cocks n' places under his chin.

 **FATHER GIL  
** Andy, wait!

ANDY blasts his dirty ass. Da nun screams as ANDYz body slumps forward over tha balcony wall. FATHER GIL looks sickened.


	2. ACT ONE

INT. BOBBY’s place.

BOBBY is hustlin on tha Colt, while Dean melts metal tha fuck into bullets, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. BOBBY looks at a magnifyin glass all up in tha Colt, n' looks at a gangbangin' finger-lickin' diagram of parts, n' you can put dat on yo' toast.

 **SAM (walkin in)  
** Hey.

 **DEAN (lookin up)  
** Yo, what tha fuck up?

 **SAM  
** Might've found some omens up in Ohio. Dry lightning, barometric-heat drop.

 **DEAN  
** Well, thatz thrilling.

 **SAM**  
Plus, some muthafucka blows his head off up in a cold-ass lil church n' another goes postal up in a hobby shop before tha cops take his ass out.  
Might be demonic omens.

 **DEAN  
** Or it could just be a suicizzle n' a psycho scrapbooker.

 **SAM  
** Yeah yo, but itz our dopest lead since Lincoln.

 **DEAN  
** Where up in Ohio, biatch?

 **SAM  
** Elizabethville. It aint nuthin but a half-dead factory hood up in tha rust belt.

 **DEAN  
** Therez gots ta be a thugged-out demon or two up in Downtown Beach.

 **SAM (smiling)**  
Sorry, Hef. Maybe next time.  
Howz it going, Bobby?

 **BOBBY  
** Slow.

 **DEAN  
** Eh, I rap , itz a lil fucked up seein tha Colt like dat n' like dis n' like dat y'all.

 **BOBBY  
** Well, tha only thang itz phat fo' now is figurin up what tha fuck make it tick.

 **SAM  
** So what tha fuck make it tick?

BOBBY looks up- not amused.

SAM holdz his handz up in amusement.

 **DEAN (rising)**  
So, if we wanna go hit up these omens up in Ohio…  
(teasingly, straight-faced)  
... you be thinkin you can have dat thang locked n loaded by dis afternoon?

SAM chuckles. BOBBY stares at his ass incredulously.

 **BOBBY  
** Well, it won't bust a cap up in demons by then, (beat) but I can promise you it'll bust a cap up in  _you_.

 **DEAN  
** (smiles) All right, come on, we wastin tha daylight.

 **SAM  
** See you, Bobby.

SAM n' DEAN start ta muthafuckin bounce.

 **BOBBY  
** Yo dawwwwg! Yo ass thugs run tha fuck into anything- anything- you call mah dirty ass.

They nod n' head out.

 

**_SCENE_ **

Impala rollin tha fuck into a town. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

 

**_SCENE_ **

INT. CHURCH.

SAM n' DEAN is up in suits.

 **FATHER GIL  
** Therez not much left fo' tha insurizzle company. Dat shiznit was a suicizzle - I saw it mah dirty ass.

 **DEAN  
** Well,this shouldn't take long, then.

 **FATHER GIL (sighs)  
** Thatz where Andy done did dat shit. It aint nuthin but tha last time I'd peeped his ass up in weeks. Dude used ta come every last muthafuckin Sunday.

 **SAM  
** When did da perved-out muthafucka stop?

 **FATHER GIL  
** Probably bout ... two months ago, biatch? Right round tha time every last muthafuckin thang else started ta chizzle.

 **SAM  
** Change how?

 **FATHER GIL  
** Oh, letz just say dis used ta be a hood ... you could be proud as a muthafucka of. Muthafuckas ... cared bout each other n' shit. Andy busted up in tha choir, n' then one day, he just ... wasn't Andy no mo'. Dat shiznit was like da thug was ...

 **SAM  
** Possessed?

 **FATHER GIL  
** Yo ass could say dis shit. Gambled away his crazy-ass scrilla, cheated on his hoe, fucked wit his bidnizz. Yes, like a switch had flipped.

 **SAM  
** Father, did you know tha playa whoz ass capped dem folks up in tha hobby shop?

 **FATHER GIL  
** Sure, Tony Perkins.

 **SAM  
** Tony Perkins.

 **FATHER GIL  
** Dope man.

 **SAM  
** Would you say dat his thugged-out lil' personalitizzle suddenly chizzled one day, too?

 **FATHER GIL  
** I never thought bout it dat way yo, but... yes. bout tha same time as Andy- bout two months ago.

 **DEAN  
** Well, fuck you, Father n' shiznit fo' realz. Appreciate yo' time.

SAM n' DEAN start ta muthafuckin bounce.

 **SAM (undertone ta DEAN)  
** Two months ago, we open up tha devilz gate, all of a sudden dis hood turns tha fuck into Margaritaville, biatch? It aint nuthin but no coincidence.

 

**_SCENE_ **

INT yo. HOTEL.

SAM n' DEAN is enterin they room, Dean chucklin all up in tha mirrors on tha ceiling, when tha door across tha hall opens.

 **DEAN  
** Richie. (Da other muthafucka looks up.) I don't believe dat shit.

 **RICHIE  
** Yo, Dean... Winchester, right?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah.

A tall scantily dressed hoe appears from Richie’s room.

 **RICHIE  
** This is mah sister, uh, Cheryl.

 **CHERYL  
** Hey.

 **DEAN  
** Cheryl.

 **RICHIE**  
(handz CHERYL some scrilla)  
There.  
(as CHERYL leaves, ta DEAN n' SAM)  
Well, you know... stepsister.

 **DEAN  
** Come on in. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. This is mah brother, Sam.

 **RICHIE  
** Hey yo. How tha fuck you bustin, biatch?

 **SAM  
** Not too bad. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! How tha fuck do you two know each other?

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass was up in school.

 **RICHIE  
** Dat shiznit was dat succubus, up in Canarsie right, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, yeah.

 **RICHIE  
** Oh, man. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Yo ass should have peeped tha rack on dis broad. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Freakin' fuck up when I had ta gank her muthafuckin ass.

 **DEAN  
** Whoa, whoa. Wait. Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck capped her, biatch? If I remember, yo' ass was toast until I flossed up.

 **RICHIE  
** Oh, I forgot what tha fuck a cold-ass lil funny-ass muthafucka dis muthafucka was.

 **DEAN  
** Richie, Richie, know what, biatch? I holla'd at you then n' I be bout ta rap again n' again n' again- you not cut up fo' dis thang. Yo ass is gonna git yo ass capped.

(RICHIE’s beeper rings)

 **RICHIE**  
(to caller)  
Talk ta mah dirty ass.  
(to DEAN)  
FYI, Winchesta- lyrics hurt.   
(to caller)  
Yeah, biatch? (pause) Fuck dat shit, it aint a phat time, babe. Later.

 **DEAN  
** So you find anythang up in dis town, anyway?

 **RICHIE**  
Ah, no. I gots nothing.  
Oh, wait a minute. Yo ass mean as up in demons n' whatnot?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah.

 **RICHIE  
** Fuck dat shit, I gots nothing.

 **DEAN  
** Typical. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. What bout yo' sista back there?

 **RICHIE**  
Oh, straight-up, biatch? Biatch definitely had tha devil up in her yo, but dat biiiiatch wasn't no demon, you know what tha fuck I be saying?  
(off DEAN’s erection)   
Right. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Seriously.  
Church muthafucka, hobby-shop muthafucka- they was lunch meat by tha time I gots there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Yo maybe they was possessed yo, but I can't prove dat shit.

 **SAM  
** Yeah, thatz where we are, like a muthafucka. Yo ass know, letz just say dat demons is possessin playas up in dis town. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Yo ass know, raisin hell-

 **DEAN  
** Yeah yo, but why would a thugged-out demon blow his domes out?

 **RICHIE  
** Well, fo' fun, biatch? Yo ass know da thug wrecks one body, moves ta another n' shit. Yo ass know, like takin a jacked hoopty fo' a joyride.

 **DEAN  
** Anybody else left up in tha hood dat fits tha flava- you know, sick muthafucka turned douche, still breathing?

 **RICHIE  
** Therez Trotter.

 **SAM  
** Whoz that?

 **RICHIE  
** Well, he used ta be head of tha Rotary Joint fo' realz. And then playas say tha pimpin' muthafucka turned bastard all of a sudden, biatch? Brought up in tha gambling, tha hookers. .. fo' realz. Ah, he practically owns dis whole town.

 **SAM  
** Know where we could find him?

 **RICHIE  
** Oh, he'll be at his bar up in all dem hours.

_MUSIC: Creedence Clearwata Revivalz "Run Through tha Jungle"._

**_SCENE_ **

EXT. DAY.

MUSIC: Creedence Clearwata Revivalz "Run Through tha Jungle" continues playin as SAM n' DEAN pull up in tha IMPALA. Da hood up in buzzing, it be lookin like Mardi Gras- playas wanderin round wit cocktails, dirty girls, fuckin shitloadz of action.

 **DEAN (lookin round all up in tha action)  
** I thought you holla'd dis was some boarded-up factory town.

 **SAM  
** It is fo' realz. At least, itz supposed ta be.

 **DEAN  
** Well, what tha fuck is we waitin for, biatch? Letz do some research. (DEAN looks buckwild ta follow a funky-ass bunch of bangin dem hoes. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. From a cold-ass lil car, a biatch up in a miniskirt watches him, then gestures fo' his ass ta come. DEAN approaches tha hoopty n' looks at her, smiling; SAM comes back ta fetch DEAN n' smilez embarrassedly all up in tha biatch as he pulls DEAN away.

 

 

**_SCENE_ **

INT. TROTTER’S BAR.

MUSIC: CCR continues ta play as SAM n' DEAN thread they way all up in a cold-ass lil crowded bar. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Muthafuckas is drankin n' ridin' dirty n' seem ta be havin a phat time. DEAN be at ease, movin all up in tha crowd like tha pimpin' muthafucka tryin ta pick up tha dopest action. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. SAM is gettin bumped tha fuck into n' seems ta feel a lil awkward n' overstimulated.

RICHIE brushes past a biatch n' approaches SAM n' DEAN. Dat punk bustin a somewhat shiny orange short-sleeved hoodie halfway unbuttoned ta reveal a white t-shirt underneath.

 **DEAN  
** Oh, Richie. Look at you, biatch.

 **RICHIE  
** Hey.

DEAN n' RICHIE shake hands.

 **DEAN  
** Bringin satin back.

 **RICHIE**  
Oh, you like this, biatch? Try Thai silk- Canal Street.  
You'd gotta pay $300 fo' threadz like these, easy as fuck . Cost ta me- fuggedaboutit.

 **SAM  
** How tha fuck much is "forget bout it", biatch?

 **RICHIE  
** Ah, forget bout dat shit. Thatz Trotta over there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho yo. Dude sits there all night. Can't bust a nut on his muthafuckin ass.

 **SAM  
** So,what do our phat asses do now?

 **DEAN  
** I don't give a fuck bout you muthafuckas yo, but I'ma do a lil investigatin wit dat bartender.

 **RICHIE  
** Easy. Me n' her, we gots a lil ... somethin'-somethin' lined up fo' later.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, right.

 **RICHIE  
** Stings, don't it, biatch? All right. I gots ta hit tha head, release tha hostages. Be back up in a gangbangin' few.

SAM laughs at RICHIEz general cheesiness.

 **DEAN  
** No way he gets a hoe like dis shit. I mean, peep her n' shit. Yo ass could fit dat ass on a nickel.

 **FATHER GIL  
** Yo ass be thinkin so?

 **DEAN  
** Oh. (laughs) Sorry, Padre.

 **FATHER GIL  
** Knew you thugs would find yo' way here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. They all do.

 **SAM  
** No offense yo, but what tha fuck is you bustin here, Father?

 **FATHER GIL  
** Like it or not, you go where yo' flock is.

Da bartender – CASEY- pours his ass a thugged-out drink.

 **CASEY  
** Plus, tha clergy dranks fo' free.

 **FATHER GIL  
** True, n' a cold-ass lil certain bartender owes me a cold-ass lil confession.

 **CASEY  
** Not up in dis gametime, Father.

 **FATHER GIL**  
I betta peep yo' booty on Sunday.  
(looks at Dean as he leaves tha seat)  
Nickel or no nickel.

 **CASEY  
** What can I git you thugs?

 **DEAN  
** Whatz yo' speciality?

 **CASEY  
** I cook up a mean hurricane.

 **DEAN  
** I guess we'll peep bout that.

 **SAM (to DEAN, laughing)  
** Yo ass drank hurricanes?

 **DEAN  
** I do now, nahmeean?

 

  
Over near tha pool table, a playa- REGGIE- enters.

 **REGGIE (tonelessly, emotionlessly)  
** Yea muthafucka, John.

 **JOHN  
** Reggie. Everythang aiiight wit yo slick ass?

 **REGGIE  
** I don't give a gangbangin' fuck. I be just not feelin mah dirty ass todizzle.

 **JOHN  
** Yo, what tha fuck is you bustin?!)

 **SAM (spots dat REGGIE has a gun)**  
(to DEAN, hittin his ass n' gesturin toward REGGIE)  
Hey.

REGGIE raises his wild lil' freakadelic glock n' blasts JOHN point-blank up in tha forehead. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Da crowd erupts up in chaos. TROTTER n' his henchguy stand up.

REGGIE aims tha glock at his own head. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

DEAN tacklez his ass ta tha ground. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! SAM surreptitiously splashes holy wata on his muthafuckin ass.

REGGIE seems straight-up surprised n' outraged by bein splashed wit gin n juice yo, but don't sizzle.  
What is you bustin?! (to his dirty ass) Dude slept wit mah hoe. That bastard slept wit mah hoe!

 **SAM  
** Some Muthafucka call 911!

SAM exchanges a look wit TROTTER.

 

**_SCENE_ **

_LATER._

Popo cuff REGGIE n' lead his ass away.

 **SAM  
** Too nuff cops here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. I say we roll.

 **DEAN  
** Just be cool. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Skanky jerk. Only thang possessin his ass was a sixer of Pabst.

 **SAM  
** So, whatz tha deal, then, biatch? Muthafuckas up in dis hood gettin possessed or not?

 **DEAN  
** I don't give a gangbangin' fuck. Maybe it is just what tha fuck it is- hood full of scumbags.

 **SAM  
** Yeah. Maybe.

 **POLICE OFFICER  
** Yo ass thugs locked n loaded fo' yo' mug shots, biatch? (SAM n' DEAN look straight-up trippin n' tha cop hastens ta reassure dem wild-ass muthafuckas.) Da pornographerz gonna be here up in a gangbangin' few, n' ... take yo' picture fo' tha local paper.

 **DEAN (relieved, faux enthusiastic):  
** Be a honor, Officer n' shit. What a thrill! (heh heh)

 **SAM  
** Yep, time ta bounce tha fuck out. (rising)

 **DEAN  
** Wait a second. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Wait a second.

 **SAM  
** What?

 **DEAN  
** Wherez Richie?

 

 

**_SCENE_ **

EXT. NIGHT.

CASEY n' RICHIE arrive at a house.

 **RICHIE  
** So, howz a funky-ass bartender afford a place like this?

 **CASEY  
** I be a gangsta yo, but y'all knew dat n' mah muthafathas left it ta mah dirty ass. I don't come up here much- mostly when I wanna be ridin' solo.

 

INT.

CASEY leadz RICHIE tha fuck into a rather gothic-lookin basement.

 **RICHIE  
** Wow. This is, uh, ... charming, biatch? (pause) Yo ass shizzle you wouldn't be mo' laid back up in a funky-ass bedroom or mah motel room, biatch? I mean, not fo' not a god damn thang yo, but, you know, I gots oils. (laughs)

 **CASEY  
** But I have toys.

 **RICHIE  
** Yeah, no. Toys trump oils.

 

CASEY lights candles.

RICHIE Yo ass don't get, uh, scared down here all by yo ass?

 **CASEY  
** Of course not. Not when I've gots a hunta ta protect mah dirty ass.

She turns, n' smilez briefly before closin her eyes, openin dem ta reveal straight-up black, demonic eyes. RICHIEz smile fades. CASEY blows up tha candle dat freaky freaky biatch holdin n' draws a funky-ass blade as he pulls one from his boot. Biatch stabs his ass n' quickly twists his neck 180 degrees. His body drops ta tha ground. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 


	3. ACT TWO

INT. TROTTER’ BAR.

DEAN sits at a table, a big-ass burger up in front of his muthafuckin ass. Dat punk hangin up a cold-ass lil cell beeper n' lookin at it speculatively as if da thug was just tryin ta reach one of mah thugs.

 **SAM (to BARMAN)**  
Thanks.  
(to DEAN, as he returns ta table wit brews)  
Yo ass do realize there be a red meat within strikin distance, right?

 **DEAN  
** How tha fuck nuff times i gots ta tell Richie, he gonna git his dirty ass up in shit?

 **SAM  
** Dean, you assumin he missing. I mean, maybe he just bailed.

 **DEAN  
** Dat punk a moron. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I mean, he a thugged-out dope moron yo, but he not a cold-ass lil coward. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dude wouldn't just bail. I gots ta go find his muthafuckin ass.

 **SAM  
** All right. Meanwhile I be thinkin I'ma trail dis Trotta muthafucka.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah?

 **SAM**  
Yeah. I don't give a gangbangin' fuck. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Somethang bout tha way he looked all up in mah grill last night.  
Maybe there is suttin' goin on here.

EXT. DAYTIME

BOBBY is blastin at a target wit tha restored COLT, makin adjustments afta he fires. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Suddenly, RUBY appears up in from of tha target.

 **RUBY  
** Cute piece.

 **BOBBY  
** Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck is yo slick ass?

 **RUBY  
** It won't stop a thugged-out demon, if thatz what tha fuck you think.

 **BOBBY  
** How tha fuck tha hell would you know?

 **RUBY**  
Oh, I don't give a gangbangin' fuck.  
(Bitch closes her eyes n' when she opens dem they is black, revealin she be a thugged-out demon.)  
Call it a constipated guess?

 **BOBBY  
** Well, ain't I dirty, then, biatch? Found a subject fo' a test fire.

 **RUBY  
** Luck had not a god damn thang ta do wit dat shit. But, hey, by all means. Take yo' dopest shot. (Bitch poses up in front of tha target, arms outstretched.)

BOBBY hesitates.

 **RUBY  
** (sighs up in exasperation) Is you gonna stand there like a pantywaist, or is you gonna blast…

BOBBY blasts her up in tha chest.

RUBY looks down all up in tha wound up in tha centa of her chest.

 **RUBY  
** Ouch! That smarts a lil.

 **BOBBY  
** What do you want?

 **RUBY  
** Peace on earth. A freshly smoked up shirt. Now ... do you want me ta help you up wit dat glock or not, biatch? Hmm?

INT.

SAM is up in a cold-ass lil corridor outside TROTTER’s office, where TROTTER is poppin' off his henchdude. SAMz beeper rings, startlin his muthafuckin ass.

 **SAM  
** Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. (in a hushed voice)

 **DEAN  
** Sammy.

 **SAM  
** Yeah yo. Hey. I can't rap n' aint a thugged-out damn thang dat yo' ass can do.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass aiiight?

 **SAM  
** Yeah, I be fine. Just, uh ... hook up wit me all up in tha bar up in 20 minutes, aiiight?

SAM hangs up.

 **DEAN  
** Sam!

Da henchguy comes outta TROTTERz crib n' looks round fo' a moment yo, but SAM is nowhere ta be seen.

 

INT. TROTTER’s BAR.

A biatchz shiny nails trail along tha bar. Shiiit, dis aint no joke.

 **WOMAN (husky-voiced)  
** I gots ta rap- every last muthafuckin biatch up in dis place, biatch? They wanna smoke you up.

 **DEAN  
** Well, hey. Anybody could have tackled dat muthafucka … n' wrestled tha glock away ... prevented mass murder.

 **WOMAN**  
Herez what tha fuck I'ma do. (DEAN smilez up in anticipation.)   
Normally, I charge $400 a night.   
(whisperin up in DEAN’s ear)  
Why don't we call it a even deuce n' git tha hell outta here?

 **DEAN (incredulous)  
** What do I look like?

 **WOMAN  
** What do I look like, biatch? (as dat biiiiatch strutts away) Cheapskate.

 **CASEY  
** (laughs) Did I just peep you strike up wit a hoe, biatch? Howz dat work?

 **DEAN  
** Well, I just holla'd at her I had a thang fo' tha bartender n' shit. Dat shiznit was pretty easy as fuck .

 **CASEY  
** Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck say tha bartenderz available?

 **DEAN  
** Thatz a phat question. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Yo ass gots suttin' goin wit some muthafucka, you know, bout yea tall, wears a sweatsuit ...?

 **CASEY  
** Who?

 **DEAN  
** Naw. My fuckin mistake. What do you say you n' mah crazy ass grab a thugged-out drank afta yo' shift?

 **CASEY  
** I say why wait ... when we can go right now?

DEAN smiles.

DEAN n' CASEY is leavin together n' shit.

INT yo. HALL BY TROTTER’S OFFICE.

TROTTER n' his HENCHDUDE strutt outta TROTTERz crib. SAM watches fo' a second from tha hallway, then headz tha fuck into tha crib. Dude starts riflin all up in tha desk, lookin at calendar, keys ... Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Suddenly tha HENCHDUDE is there, takin a swin at SAM. SAM punches his ass hard, repeatedly, when he feels a glock ta his neck.

 **TROTTER (holdin tha gun)  
** What is you bustin here?

 **SAM  
** Yo ass KNOW maybe you know.

 **TROTTER  
** Yeah, biatch? Well, I be thinkin I be callin tha cops!

 **SAM (seemin surprised)  
** Cops?

 **TROTTER  
** Breakin n' entering, assault­- you up in a peck of shit, mah playa.

 **SAM  
** Uh, wh-, uh ... I be thinkin I could probably explain it-

SAM suddenly twists around, grabs tha glock from TROTTER, n' points it at both men.  
All right, back up! Git back.

 **TROTTER  
** Moneyz up in tha safe biaaatch! Take it n' go.

 **SAM  
** I don't want yo' scrilla. I just gots ta be sure.

SAM splashes both pimps wit holy gin n juice n' shit. They flinch n' sputta from tha sudden spritz of cold water, n' look outraged yo, but not a god damn thang else happens.

 **TROTTER  
** What kind of psycho is yo slick ass?

 **SAM (embarrassed)**  
Oh, god. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Uh ... I be sorry as a muthafucka bout dat bullshit. (shrugs) Heh ... I ... be thinkin dis was just a minor misunderstanding, biatch? (continuin ta smile nervously) Yeah, aiiight, ummm .... How tha fuck 'bout I just ... i just leave, 'cause ...  
(removes bullets from gun)  
I be bout ta take these n' you can put dat on yo' toast. (sheepishly shrugs)  
(places glock down)  
Okay, I be bout ta, uh, I be bout ta leave dis for, uh ... you, uh ...   
.. yo. Have a sick day, biatch?

SAM turns n' strutts rapidly outta tha office, grimacin up in embarrassment, n' leavin TROTTER n' his henchman starin up in bewilderment.

**_SCENE - nighttime_ **

Da IMPALA is parked outside CASEYz house.

INT. BASEMENT IN CASEY’S PARENT’S HOME.

 **DEAN  
** Looks like tha maidz dizzle off.

CASEY seems surprised at something.

 **DEAN  
** (approaches, continuing) Everythang aiiight?

 **CASEY (kisses DEAN)  
** Make yo ass comfortable.

 **DEAN (strollin round casually)  
** Oh, I forgot ta mention ... Richie was a gangbangin' playa of mine. When I realized I could track tha GPS up in his cellphone, I swung by earlier n' shit. Give his ass a proper burial. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. It aint nuthin but betta than rottin up in some skankz basement.

CASEY launches her muthafuckin ass at DEAN but is stopped by a invisible barrier n' shit.

 **DEAN  
** Oops.

DEAN kneels down, n' peels back tha corner of tha rug, which is coverin a thugged-out devil’s trap dat schmoooove muthafucka has drawn.

 **DEAN**  
Tsk, tsk, tsk. Isn't dat a funky-ass buzz kill?  
Sorry, sista yo, but you goin back ta where you came from.

 **CASEY (laughs)  
** I don't be thinkin so.

DEAN takes up a funky-ass book n' begins ta read up in Latin.

 **DEAN  
** Spiritus immunde, undolara. Pasonitote ...

CASEY closes her eyes as if meditating, n' suddenly a funky-ass breeze is blowin tha fuck into DEANz face, n' spinnin tha chandelier above CASEY. DEAN recollects his dirty ass, n' begins readin again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

 **DEAN  
** Spiritus immunde, undo-

Da pages from DEAN’s book is pulled off by tha mystical breeze. As he looks down all up in tha book all tha pages fly off n' tha book as well. CASEY opens her eyes n' smiles. Underneath tha book, now on tha floor, a giant crack forms. Boy it's gettin hot, yes indeed it is. Suddenly tha bricks round tha door cave in. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

DEAN looks shocked n' turns ta peep CASEY, whoz ass looks pleased. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 **DEAN  
** What is you bustin up at, biiiatch, biatch? Yo ass is still trapped.

 **CASEY  
** So is you, biatch... biiiatch.


	4. ACT THREE

**_SCENE_ **

INT. BASEMENT IN CASEY’S PARENT’S HOME.

  
LATER. DEAN lights candlez n' examines tha rockfall.

 **CASEY  
** Lose something?

 **DEAN  
** (laughs) All you demons have such smart-ass grills.

 **CASEY  
** It aint nuthin but a gift.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, well. Letz peep if you smilin when I bust yo' ass back ta Hell.

 **CASEY  
** Without yo' lil exorcizzle book, biatch? Yo, go ahead.

 **DEAN (begin authoritatively)  
** Spiritus immunde ... un, guh ...

 **CASEY  
** Havin a lil shiznit there, sport?

 **DEAN  
** (clears throat, begins again) Spiritus immunde, undolare, Pasonitote. (takes a funky-ass breath, tries n' fails ta remember tha next phrase)

 **CASEY  
** Sick try yo, but I be thinkin ... you just ordered a pizzy. Guess you should have paid mo' attention up in Latin class.

 **DEAN  
** Yo, I don't give a fuck what tha fuck you smilin about. Yo ass aint goin anywhere.

 **CASEY  
** And, apparently, neither is you, biatch.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah yo, but I gots some muthafucka comin fo' me, and, uh... he  _did_  pay attention up in class.

 **CASEY  
** Oh, right, Sam. Everyone say tha pimpin' muthafucka tha domez of tha tracksuit.

 **DEAN  
** Everyone, biatch?

 **CASEY  
** Sure. Yo ass Winchesta thugs is famous. Not Lohan hyped yo, but, you know...

 **DEAN  
** Well, thatz ... flattering. I be bout ta be shizzle ta let Sam know when he gets here.

 **CASEY**  
If da perved-out muthafucka shows up first. (off DEANz look) What, you thought I was flyin solo?  
Yo ass shouldn't underestimate, Dean, it might be tha dirtnap of you, biatch.   
Yo ass can give me hard eyes all you want yo, but tha fact remains, our laid-back asses just gotta wait n' peep whoz ass shows up first-  
(waits)  
Da cavalry ... (smiles) or tha Indians.

 

 

**SCENE**

INT. TROTTER’S bar. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Da sex worker whoz ass tried ta pick up DEAN earlier sits all up in tha bar, smilin at SAM.

 **PROSTITUTE  
** Yo ass look kind of tense. (SAM looks round ta peep if she poppin' off ta his muthafuckin ass.) Yo ass know, I know a surefire way ta chillax.

 **SAM  
** Maybe later n' shit. (to tha bartender:) Excuse mah dirty ass. Yo!

 **BARMAN  
** What can I git fo' yo slick ass, biatch?

 **SAM  
** Um, you remember tha muthafucka I was wit last night, biatch? We sat right here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Umm....

 **BARMAN  
**... Da big-ass pimp whoz ass jumped on Reggie.

 **SAM  
** Yeah, yeah. Da- tha big-ass hero. Right. Um, have you peeped his ass round at all todizzle?

 **BARMAN  
** Maybe. Depends.

 **SAM  
** D-dependz on what?

BARMAN raises a eyebrow. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM catches on.

 **SAM  
** Oh mah- ! Do mah playas round here have they hand out, biatch? (sighs, n' pulls up some scrilla n' handz it ta tha BARMAN)

 **BARMAN  
** Dude left wit Casey bout a minute ago.

 **SAM  
** Any scam where they went?

 **BARMAN  
** Her place... fo' Bizzle study.

 **SAM  
** All right, you gots a address, biatch?

 **BARMAN  
** Whatz wack wit yo slick ass, biatch? Yo ass be thinkin I'ma hit you wit a cold-ass lil co-workerz address, just so you can go over there n' git yo' freaky peeping-tom rocks off, biatch? (without pausin SAM handz mo' scrilla over) (without pausin tha BARMAN continues) Corner of Piermont n' Clinton. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Have fun.

SAM sighs. Da hoe licks a cold-ass lil cherry lasciviously. SAM strutts round her, gittin tha fuck aaway from her gaze.

 

 

**_SCENE_ **

INT. BASEMENT IN CASEY’S PARENT’S HOME.

DEAN is movin a Cristal cask over ta a openin (that daylight be apparently streamin up in through). Dude holdz up his cell beeper ta try ta git a signal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack.

 **CASEY  
** Why don't you chillax?

 **DEAN  
** Why don't you lick mah ass?

 **CASEY  
** Why, Dean, you a poet. I had no idea. Look, we won't have any effect on tha outcome of all dis bullshit. We might as well be civil.

 **DEAN  
** Civil, huh, biatch? Bustin' Richie- dat was, dat was civil, biatch? Da muthafucka was harmless.

 **CASEY  
** That knife he pulled on me son, biatch? Didn't look so harmless.

 **DEAN  
** Ah, a knife wouldn't hurt you, biatch.

 **CASEY  
** Fuck dat shiznit yo, but it would damage dis body. And Casey has such a gangbangin' fine body, I wouldn't wanna peep it ripped.

 **DEAN**  
(laughs) A demon wit a ass. Wow.  
Well, you know, there be a a funky-ass bunch of dead playas up in hood dat might disagree wit you, biatch.

 **CASEY  
** Yo, I didn't pull any triggers.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, biatch? Yo ass did something.

 **CASEY  
** Yo ass wanna know what tha fuck I did- what tha fuck I straight-up did, biatch? I had lunch.

 **DEAN  
** Lunch, biatch?

 **CASEY  
** Me n' Trotter n' shiznit yo. Dude had a cold-ass lil cheeseburger, I had a salad, n' I just pointed up tha scrilla dat could be made wit all dem bidnizzes dat cata ta harmless vice. So Trotta built it, and, dude, did they come. Supposedly God-fearin folk, waist-deep up in booze, sex, gambling. I barely lifted a gangbangin' finger.

 **DEAN  
** Thatz it, biatch?

 **CASEY**  
Yo ass don't git it fo' realz. All you gots ta do is nudge humans up in tha right direction. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Some whiskey here, a hooker there, n' they'll strutt right tha fuck into hell wit big, fat smilez on they faces. Yo crazy-ass kind is corrupt, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Weak.  
Our willz stronger n' shit. Thatz why we'll win.

 **DEAN  
** And thatz how tha fuck it ends?

 **CASEY  
** No. Thatz how tha fuck it begins.

 

 

_LATER_

INT. CASEY’s home.

Knockin on a thugged-out door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Da door swings open n' SAM looks at it but decides ta go all up in it anyway.

 **SAM  
** Dean?

SAM checks up tha place. Dude steps on lil pink piggy slippers dat cook up a gangbangin' finger-lickin' disturbin sound. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Lookin at a picture of CASEY wit a muthafucka, n' a cold-ass lil cross phat gold rope hangin on top of it, da perved-out muthafucka sees behind it a yellow powder n' shit. Dude sniffs dat shit.

 **SAM  
** Sulfur.

 

 

INT. BASEMENT IN CASEY’S PARENT’S HOME.

 **DEAN  
** So, demons take over n' shit.. n' you KNOWS tha meek shall inherit tha earth.

 **CASEY  
** Oh, accordin ta yo' Bizzle. (Off his fuckin look.) It aint nuthin but only a funky-ass book, Dean.

 **DEAN  
** Not mah playas would agree.

 **CASEY  
** Because itz Godz book, biatch? (pause) Do you believe up in God, Dean, biatch? I'd be surprised if you done did.

 **DEAN  
** I don't give a gangbangin' fuck. I'd like to.

 **CASEY**  
Well, I don't peep how tha fuck you n' yo' God, have done such a funky-ass bang-up thang. War, genocizzle- itz only gettin worse. I mean, dis past century, you playas racked up a funky-ass body count dat amazed even us.  
It aint nuthin but our turn now, n' we gonna do it right dis time.

DEAN hears a noise. Looks up towardz grate.

 **CASEY  
** Don't be hopeful, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Yo ass aint delivered. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! It aint nuthin but only tha wind.

 

 

INT. TROTTER’S BAR.

 **SAM**  
Bobby, It aint nuthin but Sam. We gots a funky-ass big-ass problem. I found some sulfur, n' now I can't find Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Call me as soon as you git all dis bullshit.  
(to BARMAN)  
Yo, excuse mah dirty ass. Um, they weren't there.

 **BARMAN  
** I guess you gots ta catch yo' jollies another night yo. Here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Why don't you gotz a thugged-out drank ... n' chillax?

 **SAM  
** Yeah, I don't  _want_  ta chillax! What tha fuck iz it wit tha playas up in dis town?

 **BARMAN  
** Suit yo ass- bizzatch. (Da BARMAN takes tha blasted dat schmoooove muthafucka had poured fo' SAM.)

SAM sees FATHER GIL chillin at a funky-ass booth up in tha bar n' approaches his muthafuckin ass.

 **SAM  
** Father.

 **FATHER GIL  
** Yes?

 **SAM  
** Um... can I, can I rap ta you fo' a sec?

 

 

INT. THE BASEMENT.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass know, you pilin it pretty high there, dopeheart. I aint shizzle I be buying.

 **CASEY  
** Why would I lie?

 **DEAN  
** Demons lie.

 **CASEY  
** Some do. Some is legit believers.

 **DEAN  
** Believers up in what?

 **CASEY  
** What, you be thinkin humans have a exclusive on a higher power?

 **DEAN (surprised)  
** Yo ass gotz a god?

 **CASEY  
** Sure yo. His namez Lucifer.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass mean tha Devil?

 **CASEY**  
Yo crazy-ass word, not ours. Lucifer straight-up means "light branger." Look it up.  
Once da thug was da most thugged-out dope of all Godz angels, But Dogg demanded dat his thugged-out lil' punk-ass bow down before Man, n' when he refused, Dogg banished his muthafuckin ass.  
Tell me, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. How tha fuck do you like bowin before lesser creatures?

 **DEAN  
** Luciferz straight-up real?

 **CASEY  
** Well, no onez straight-up peeped his ass yo, but they say dat he made our asses tha fuck into what tha fuck we are, n' they say dat he'll return.

 **DEAN  
** Oh, yeah, biatch? And, uh, you believe that?

 **CASEY  
** Ya Mom shoulda told ya, I gots faith.

 **DEAN  
** Mmm.

 **CASEY  
** So, you see, biatch? Is mah kind straight-up all dat different than yours?

 **DEAN  
** Well, except that, uh, demons is evil.

 **CASEY  
** …and humans is such a lovable bunch. (beat) Dick Cheney.

 **DEAN  
** Dude one of yours, biatch?

 **CASEY  
** Not yet. Letz just say he gots a parkin spot reserved fo' his ass downstairs.

 **DEAN  
** (laughs) Yo, bustin lyrics of downstairs ... whatz it like down there?

 **CASEY  
** What, Hell?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah.

 **CASEY**  
Thatz right. Yo ass booked a one-way ticket wit dat deal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. (DEAN laughs.)   
Yo ass aint gonna like it, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. And, um, judgin from tha shiznit you've caused, I don't be thinkin you gonna be gettin tha prezial suite.  
Fuck dat shit, itz a pit of despair. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Why do you be thinkin we wanna come here?

DEAN looks somber.

 

INT. TROTTER’s bar. Shiiit, dis aint no joke.

 **SAM  
** So, the, tha bartender tha other night, Casey. Yo ass know her pretty well?

 **FATHER GIL (nodding)  
** Since dat biiiiatch was up in pigtails.

 **SAM  
** Well, um, she n' mah brother, they, uh... (pauses, thankin how tha fuck ta say this) they... left tonight. Together.

 **FATHER GIL  
** Ah. Well ... not dat I approve yo, but they is consentin adults.

 **SAM  
** Right.

 **FATHER GIL  
** I, I be sorry as a muthafucka bout dat bullshit. Yo ass holla'd "brother." I thought tha two of y'all was insurizzle investigators?

 **SAM  
** Right, right. Well, well we are. Um, itz like, itz like a cold-ass lil crew bidnizz, you know, biatch?

 **FATHER GIL  
** Ah.

 **SAM  
** Anyways, um, so, so, I went ta Caseyz crib, n' they weren't there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. I, I, I just have dis feelin dat they ... dat they might be up in shit.

 **FATHER GIL  
** What kind of shit?

 **SAM  
** Just ... shit. Look, please, Father, I, I need yo' help. Is there anythang you could tell me bout Casey- anyplace she'd go, maybe ...?

 **FATHER GIL  
** Yes, there be a place. Let me git mah jacket.

 **SAM  
** Fuck dat shit, wait, wait, wait, Father n' shit. I can do dis by mah dirty ass.

 **FATHER GIL  
** Son, if Caseyz straight-up up in shit, then there be a not a god damn thang ta rap about.

Dude standz n' puts on his coat. We peep what tha fuck SAM don’t- dat schmoooove muthafucka has demon-black eyes.

 **FATHER GIL  
** Shall we go?


	5. ACT FOUR

INT. BASEMENT.

 **CASEY  
** Kind of funky, don't you think, biatch? Yo ass n' mah crazy ass chillin here like a cold-ass lil couple regular folk.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, itz hilarious, you know, up in dat ... apocalyptic sort of way.

 **CASEY  
** Yo ass be all right, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. (DEAN scoffs.) Da others don't describe you dat way. But, you know, you- you likable.

 **DEAN**  
A demon likes mah dirty ass.  
Sorry, I don't give a fuck how tha fuck ta respond ta that.

 **CASEY  
** Yo ass could say props. (pause) That deal you made ta save Sam- a shitload of others would mock you fo' it, be thinkin dat shiznit was weak or fuckin wack. I don't.

 **DEAN  
** It aint nuthin but been kind of liberating, actually. Y’know, whatz tha point up in worryin on some gangbangin' future, when you aint gots one?

 **CASEY  
** Still, a year left. Yo ass aint scared?

 **DEAN  
** Nah.

 **CASEY  
** Not even a lil?

 **DEAN (briefest of hesitations)  
** Of course not.

 

**_SCENE_ **

INT. CAR.

 **FATHER GIL  
** So, insurizzle investigating. Yo ass trip off tha work?

 **SAM  
** Yeah. Yeah, yeah, I ... like bein able ta help people.

 **FATHER GIL  
** Ever be thinkin bout bustin anythang else?

 **SAM  
** Like what?

 **FATHER GIL  
** Mmm, anything. Yo ass seem like a pimpin' smart-ass kid. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Somehow I peep you up in front of tha pack. (pause) Yo ass could do some pimped out thangs.

 **SAM  
** I don't give a gangbangin' fuck. I wanna bust a nut on bustin what tha fuck I be bustin, I guess.

 **FATHER GIL  
** Well, itz yo' game. Do, um ... Dean?

 **SAM  
** Yeah, Dean.

 **FATHER GIL  
** Do he find shiznit often?

 **SAM  
** Yeah. Yeah, Dean findz his wild lil' fair share.

 **FATHER GIL  
** Well, itz a phat thang dat schmoooove muthafucka has you- his brotherz keeper.

  
INT. BASEMENT.

CASEY is stretchin languorously on tha floor.

 **CASEY**  
(sighs) Why, Dean, if I didn't give a fuck better, I'd say dat was lust up in yo' eyes.  
Well, it would be one way ta spend tha time ... but I don't be thinkin you'd respect me up in tha morning.

 **DEAN**  
(quickly) Thatz all gravy.  
I mean, hey, I barely respect you now, nahmeean?  
Yo, can I ask you a question?

 **CASEY  
** I be a open book.

 **DEAN  
** So, tha gate opened. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Da demon army was let out. What now, huh, biatch? I aint seein a funky-ass big, honkin plan here.

 **CASEY  
** Honestly, there was a plan. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Azazel was a tyrant yo, but ... dat schmoooove muthafucka held our asses all together.

 **DEAN  
** Azazel?

 **CASEY  
** What, you be thinkin his wild lil' playaz just called his ass “yellow eyes”, biatch? Dude had a name fo' realz. Afta you did his ass in, all dat shiznit fell tha fuck apart.

 **DEAN (smiling)**  
Sorry bout all dis bullshit.  
So, what, biatch? No chain of command?

 **CASEY  
** There was. Dat shiznit was Sam. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sam was supposed ta be tha grand pooh-bah n' lead tha big-ass army yo, but ... dat schmoooove muthafucka aint exactly stepped up ta tha plate, has he?

 **DEAN  
** Thank Dogg fo' that.

 **CASEY**  
Again wit Dogg. Yo ass be thinkin dis be a phat thang, biatch? Now you've gots chaos, a war without a gangbangin' front, hundredz of demons all jockeyin fo' power, all fightin fo' tha crown. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Most of dem gunnin fo' yo' brother.  
For tha record, I was locked n loaded ta follow Sam.

 

  
EXT. CASEY’S PARENT’S HOME.

FATHER GILz station wagon pulls up in front of CASEYz home. FG n' SAM git outta tha hoopty n' start struttin towardz tha home.

 **SAM  
** Dean?!

 

INT. BASEMENT.

DEAN hears his brother, looks up.

 **CASEY  
** Looks like you win.

Poundin on door is heard. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 

 

EXT. CASEY’S PARENT’S HOME.

 **SAM**  
Dean! (poundin door)   
(to FATHER GIL) Peep dat way.

SAM strutts off up in tha other direction round tha house.

 **DEAN  
** Sam!

 **SAM  
** Dean?

 **DEAN  
** Sammy, down here biaaatch! Da basement caved in!

 **SAM (leanin over a grate)  
** Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Yo, hold on, aiiight, biatch? We coming.

 **DEAN  
** Whoz we, biatch?

 **SAM  
** I be here wit tha Father.

DEAN glances back ta CASEY, whose lips part- wit excitement, biatch? It aint nuthin but hard ta read her exactly. DEAN turns back ta his brutha n' shit.

 **DEAN  
** Sammy, be careful.

SAM turns ta peep FATHER GIL goin black-eyed.

A blasted is fired just past FATHER GILz head, beatin tha livin shiznit outta a lil' small-ass statute. FATHER GIL whips round ta peep BOBBY, n' then uses his thugged-out lil' powers ta flin his ass aside yo. Dude then throws SAM tha fuck into tha windscreen of tha Impala.

FATHER GIL leaves, n' blows off tha door of CASEYz home, enterin dat shit.

SAM, groaning, rolls off tha hood of tha hoopty n' rushes ta where BOBBY lies on tha ground.

 **SAM  
** Bobby, you all right, biatch?

 **BOBBY (nodding)  
** Yeah.

 **SAM  
** How tha fuck did you know where we-

 **BOBBY (handin SAM tha rebuilt Colt)  
** Go!

 **RUBY (suddenly appearing)  
** Yo ass heard tha man. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Go.

 

  
INT. BASEMENT.

Loud forceful bangs shove tha stones aside. DEAN looks nervously towardz CASEY whoz ass seems anticipatory.

FATHER GIL smashes up in all up in tha cave-in. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. DEAN rushes his muthafuckin ass. FATHER GIL points a gangbangin' finger n' DEAN goes flyin backwards.

CASEY looks at FATHER GIL, whoz ass approaches her n' shit.

 **CASEY  
** Stop!

She points ta tha devil’s trap. FATHER GIL kneels, n' slams his wild lil' fist down, crackin tha floor n' breakin tha devilz trap. They steps outta tha circle, n' they embrace n' lick passionately.

DEAN strugglez ta his wild lil' feet, n' gestures ta tha two of them, lookin revolted.  
Yo ass two?

 **FATHER GIL  
** For centuries. Put ya muthafuckin choppers up if ya feel dis! We've been ta hell n' back, literally.

 **CASEY  
** Leave his ass be.

FATHER GIL grabs DEAN by tha throat n' lifts his ass up.

 **CASEY**  
Don't bust a cap up in his muthafuckin ass. Letz just go.  
Please.

SAM appears n' blasts FATHER GIL wit tha Colt. Lightnin emits from n' circlez FATHER GIL whoz ass twitches n' dies yo. Dude points it at CASEY.

 **DEAN  
** Sam, wait!

But SAM blasts her, n' tha bodiez of CASEY n' FATHER GIL, no longer possessed, lie dead on tha devil’s trap.

DEAN stares at his brutha as da perved-out muthafucka slowly lowers tha Colt, n' tha bodies bleed out.


	6. ACT FIVE

EXT. MAIN STREET ELIZABETHVILLE. DAYTIME.

Not much appears chizzled since tha demons was capped.

BOBBY n' DEAN is struttin outside on a funky-ass busy sidewalk.

 **DEAN**  
Well, what tha fuck do you think, Bobby?  
Bout what tha fuck our phat asses did here, you be thinkin it done cooked up a gangbangin' finger-lickin' difference?

 **BOBBY  
** Two less demons ta worry about. Thatz not nothing.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah yo, but Trotterz still kickin it.

 **BOBBY  
** Humans ain't our thang.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah yo, but you be thinkin anythingz straight-up gonna chizzle, biatch? I mean maybe these playas do just wanna straight-up fuck wit theyselves. Maybe it is ... a losin battle.

 **BOBBY  
** Is dat you or tha demon hoe rappin'?

 **DEAN  
** Ohhhh, itz mah dirty ass. Demon is dead, n' so is dat bangin' hoe dat shiznit was possessing.

 **BOBBY  
** (sighs) Well, had ta be done. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sam was savin yo' game.

 **DEAN**  
Yeah yo, but you didn't peep it, Bobby. Dat shiznit was cold.  
(stops n' turns fo' a gangbangin' face-to-face wit Bobby) Bobby.

 **BOBBY  
** Yeah?

 **DEAN  
** Back up in Wyoming, uh, there was dis moment. Yellow Eyes holla'd suttin' ta mah dirty ass.

 **BOBBY  
** What'd da perved-out muthafucka say?

 **DEAN  
** That maybe when ... Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sam came back from (shrugs) well wherever, ... dat maybe his schmoooove ass came back different.

 **BOBBY  
** Different how, biatch?

 **DEAN  
** I don't give a gangbangin' fuck. Whatever it was, it didn't sound good. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! Yo ass be thinkin ... be thinkin somethingz wack wit mah brother?

 **BOBBY  
** (pauses briefly) No. Demons lie. I be shizzle Samz all gravy.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah. Yeah, me like a muthafucka.

 

**_SCENE_ **

INT yo. HOTEL ROOM.

SAM IS PACKING (as peeped from tha ceilin mirrors).

 **RUBY  
** Leavin so soon, biatch? We aint even had a cold-ass lil chizzle ta celebrate.

 **SAM  
** Yeah, well you can big-up without mah dirty ass.

 **RUBY  
** Yo ass aint gonna git all pouty on me now, is yo slick ass, biatch? Come on! Yo ass capped two demons todizzle.

 **SAM  
** Yeah, well, maybe you couldn't give a fuckin shiznit yo, but I capped two humans, like a muthafucka.

 **RUBY  
** Sam, you know what tha fuck happens when demons piggyback humans. They leave dem rode hard n' put up wet. Chances is dem two would have took a dirt nap a slow, sticky dirtnap. Yo ass probably did dem a gangbangin' favor.

 **SAM  
** Did dem a gangbangin' favor, biatch? Yo ass be a cold-ass lil cold biiiatch, you know that?

 **RUBY  
** Yeah, n' dis cold biiiatch has saved yo' ass a cold-ass lil couple times now, nahmeean, biatch? Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Some respect might be sick. Especially if you want me ta help you up wit Dean n' his fuckin lil problem.

 **SAM  
** Yo ass know what, biatch? Yo ass keep danglin dat yo, but last I checked, Deanz still goin ta Hell.

 **RUBY  
** Everythang up in its own time, Sam. But there’s a quid pro quo here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. We up in a war. Shiiit, dis aint no joke.

 **SAM  
** Right. But fo' some reason, you fightin on our crew. Now, tell me, why is dat again?

 **RUBY  
** Go screw yo ass, thatz why.

 **SAM  
** Oh I see.

 **RUBY  
** I don't gotta justify mah actions ta you, Sam. If you don't want mah help, fine. Then break off tha glock n' I be bout ta pass it on ta one of mah thugs whoz ass will use dat shit.

 **SAM (points tha COLT at RUBY)  
** Maybe I be bout ta just use it on you, biatch.

 **RUBY  
** (shrugs) Go ahead, if dat make you horny. It aint nuthin but not gonna do much fo' Dean, though.  
So, whatz it gonna be, hmm?  
  
**(SAM lowers tha Colt).  
** Ah hah. Thatz mah boy.   
  
**RUBY**  
This won't be easy as fuck , Sam. Yo ass is gonna gotta do thangs dat go against dat gentle nature of yours. There'll be collateral damage... But, it has ta be done.

 **SAM  
** Well, I don't gotta like dat shit.

 **RUBY  
** No. Yo ass wouldn't be Sam if you done did. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! On tha bright side, I be bout ta be there wit you, biatch. (SAM swallows nervously, lookin bugged out.) That lil fallen angel on yo' shoulder.

 


End file.
